


More to Man

by kiichu



Category: The Jungle Book (2016)
Genre: Don't Judge Me, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Injury, Self-Indulgent, this is entirely self-indulgent because i love this trope and shere khan sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 15:05:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6663532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiichu/pseuds/kiichu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The red flower did this.</i>
</p><p>Mowgli’s mind spun, not able to truly understand just how mighty Man’s weapon was. He gawked at Shere Khan’s deep, ugly burns, truly amazed that the tiger managed to survive to this point. In fact, if he could somehow forget what the cat had done to him, Mowgli could almost admit he was <i>impressed</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More to Man

**Author's Note:**

> sorry i don't know why i wrote this
> 
> also why should mowgli know what hands and feet are? he has PAWS, just like all the other animals

When the rivers washed away the last remnants of the red flower left in the jungle, Mowgli hesitated on returning. By pushing dead tree trunks and stones and guiding the waters down different paths, the elephants brought new life to his home - to _everyone’s_ home - and soon, life will return to the way it had always been.

But Mowgli himself was not the same, surely, as his journey had been long and difficult. He brought the red flower from the Man Village and accidentally spread it through the jungle; it was because of _him_ that this problem began. He feared what he can do, the power he held in his paws. Did he deserve to return, to live with Baloo and Bagheera in peace, or should he be exiled for his ignorance?

The animals of the jungle did not look at him with fear as they did when he held the red flower stick. No, there was only respect in their gazes, obedience and loyalty that could only grace a king. As though they have forgotten he almost destroyed their home in the first place! Mowgli felt the guilt inside him, biting away at his insides and nerves like a sneaking sickness.

Despite his mistakes, and his regrets, the other animals accepted him as one of them. He couldn’t afford to let that trust fall short.

Besides, if Mowgli was honest with himself, the red flower hadn’t felt exciting to wield. In fact, it was frightening and too powerful, and if he had not been fueled by anger at Shere Khan, he wouldn’t have touched it in the first place. It was simply too strong for a man-cub, the way it flickered and wisped about uncontrollably, threatening to swallow all in its path. Its warmth was deceptive, bringing a certain comfort that twists into pain upon touch. Mowgli wondered how Man had created such a beast, but a part of him never wanted to know.

He swallowed thickly atop the tree trunk with his two father figures, watching the rest of the animals retreat back into the jungle. His stomach churned nervously, his mind still racing from the fight; he could still see the intense ferocity of Shere Khan, and the despair as he dissolved into the blazing pit, yowls silenced by the red flower’s cruel hisses.

What would the jungle be like, now that the tiger had been consumed by the flames? Mowgli could only wonder, but he feels a sense of security nonetheless.

“Mowgli,” Bagheera growled, rising to his paws after a long stretch. “We should begin to head home. The sun is rising, and it’s a long walk back.”

“A-are you for real?” Baloo gasped, clearly still winded from the climb. “You know I _just_ made it up here!”

The panther gave a low chuckle. “You were able to climb up, yes - you shouldn’t have much trouble getting down.” With a swift, graceful pounce, the cat slipped off his branch onto the ground with ease. “It’s not that hard. Come, now.”

A small smile drew upon Mowgli’s lips, and he leapt down from the tree in his own special, man-cub-way, sliding onto smaller branches before planting his hindpaws in the dirt. “Come on, Baloo!” he cried up at his friend, watching the bear’s jaws part anxiously.

And a few wobbly steps and bumbling slides later, Baloo was safely back on the ground, wheezing and attempting to once more catch his breath. “You two were just showing off,” he chided, “and if I’d’a had more time to prepare, I would’ve… smoked past you both… on the way down, for sure!”

Mowgli laughed. “Whatever you say, Baloo. You were probably still tired from the fight with Shere Khan, too!”

“Yes, _humor_ the bear, Mowgli,” Bagheera scoffed, shaking his head. “See where that gets him next time we have to move faster than a trot. Now, come on, you two - we must be heading home.”

“Home…” The man-cub echoed, the word tasting differently on his tongue than before. He had known the wolf pack’s home as his for so long, the thought of how he would deal with a new one didn’t even cross his mind before now. He’d always been headstrong and adaptable, and was ready to move on from the wolves, but wasn’t sure exactly where he would go now. “To the Man Village?” he asked quietly, a weak plea hidden in his words.

Bagheera must have heard it, for he answered, “No - unless you wish to. With Shere Khan defeated, you are free to live in the jungle as you did before, Mowgli.”

“Atta boy, Bagheera!” Baloo rumbled, “I knew you had it in you. C’mon, kid, we’re goin’ home - to ol’ Baloo’s place.” The bear didn’t wait for an answer and simply waddled forward, expecting the two to just follow along with him.

After exchanging a glance with Bagheera, Mowgli shrugged and followed along anyway, pleased to have finally settled in a home of his own choice. With Bagheera’s conservative nature and Baloo’s easygoing lifestyle, Mowgli couldn’t even imagine a better family. The two animals’ conflicting personalities ensured there was never a dull moment in their pack of misfits.

And Mowgli didn’t want it any other way.

As the three march along, the man-cub studied the jungle, and how differently it looked after exposure to the red flower. Plants that once were green and fresh were turned gray and withered into specks of thick dust. The jungle smelled very differently, now a strong scent that makes Mowgli wrinkle his nose in disgust. It was a sour odor, one he was quite familiar with - death. So much destruction was created from a small flower; it was all so unsettling to look at.

Mowgli’s gaze trailed from the brittle trees to the withered dirt, in awe at the state of the jungle. “Are we sure things will go back to normal?” he asked, worried he’d left his home to look like this forever.

Thankfully, though, Bagheera replied, “You remember the peace rock, yes? Just as the rains returned from the drought that stretched for moons, the trees and grass will cycle back to their original state. Worry not, Mowgli; this is but a small part of a much larger jungle. Time will heal things.”

Mowgli had always thought the panther’s lectures were a bit out of place and almost droning, but he couldn’t deny that Bagheera’s words on the matter were thoughtful and wise, and also exactly what he needed to hear at that moment. He ran his hands over the panther’s fur as he walked, murmuring thanks for the comfort.

Baloo chose not to comment on the subject - or perhaps he was about to, but was interrupted by a soft noise sounding from their otherwise eerily silent surroundings. He stopped in his tracks, head raised and nose pointed towards the sound. Bagheera mimicked his action, small ears perked and ready.

Cautiously, Mowgli brushed aside some branches still somehow standing, feet padding softly along the jungle floor. The noise only grew louder as he pushed away more dead trees; it was a quiet, pleading wail, sounding more pained the closer Mowgli became to it. He could only guess it belonged to some animal in pain, and he made a silent prayer to nature that it wasn’t a wolf. After Akela’s death, the man-cub wasn’t so sure he’d be able to take seeing another of his ‘kin’ die so soon.

Bagheera padded ahead of him, pawsteps silent despite the noisy dust; his green eyes flicked about, focused on finding the source of the mysterious noise. Baloo followed, quicker now that he’d realized danger might be around, leaving Mowgli bringing up the rear of their trio.

The panther slid through a particularly large bush, tail flicking back and forth anxiously; once he was halfway through, he came to a sudden stop. Baloo bumped into his backside, snorting indignantly.

“What gives? What’s making that awfully annoying sound?” he asked, poking his head through next. The bear, too, froze, backing up after a few moments and turning around.

Mowgli tilted his head in confusion. “What is it? What’s in there?”

“Kid…” Baloo sighed, clawing the ground restlessly. “Kid, uh… Listen, we’re just going to take a different route. It’ll be faster, for sure.” He began to push at Mowgli with his snout, urging him to turn back and walk another way.

The man-cub dug his paws into the ground (what he would give for claws!), and cries in protest. “No! You know I’m more than a kid, Baloo! Whatever is in there, I can see it. I brought the red flower here. I made it out of King Louie’s temple. I _killed_ Shere Khan!” Why couldn’t they let him see?!

Baloo heaved a giant sigh, almost letting him through, but Bagheera snapped his head back before anyone could move further.

“Stay back, Mowgli,” he hissed, ears flattened against his head. Bagheera didn’t seem angry, but definitely a bit frightened; he was... distressed, even, at whatever was beyond the bush.

That didn’t help quell Mowgli’s curiosity, however. “No,” he growled back, “I’m not just a man-cub anymore.” Pushing past them both with a strong shove, Mowgli slipped through the bush. He managed through with ease, catching his bare legs on some thorns but turning out unharmed for the most part.

However, despite his good luck getting through without any real injuries, once Mowgli saw the sight on the other side, he felt as though he’d been slashed in the chest. Fear gripped him so strongly and suddenly, his heart plummeting to his stomach.

There was Shere Khan, lying in the gray dirt, flanks heaving in effort to keep his windy breath travelling through his body. His orange fur - or what was left of it - was filthy, caked with gray dirt and singed off in patches, revealing crisscrosses of burns and fresh wounds. His once-striped pelt adopted a new pattern, one displaying both bare and furred patches almost stylishly. The tiger’s blood soaked the jungle floor, seeping out around him in small but thick puddles.

A soft whine left Shere Khan’s jaws as he panted, lips drawn back in a snarl despite it all. His paws trembled, claws still outstretched from the failed leap that brought him down, and once his glassy eyes - somehow still open - dragged over towards Mowgli, his whimpers darkened to growls.

The man-cub took some steps back, running into both Baloo and Bagheera as they pushed through the bush. Anything Mowgli wanted to say wouldn’t come to him, and he struggled to even make a single noise in reaction to the nearly-dead tiger in front of him.

 _The red flower did this._ Mowgli’s mind spun, not able to truly understand just how mighty Man’s weapon was. He gawked at Shere Khan’s deep, ugly burns, truly amazed that the tiger managed to survive to this point. In fact, if he could somehow forget what the cat had done to him, Mowgli could almost admit he was _impressed._

“Mowgli,” Bagheera’s deep mew sounded from beside him, and soft fur pressed into his side. “I didn’t want you to have to do this, but… by the laws of the jungle, he is _your_ foe, so _you_ have the honors.”

“T-the honors?” Mowgli’s voice came out smaller than intended, his heart beginning to race even faster in fear. What could the panther mean by that? What sort of honors did this situation bring to him? Seeing such a powerful animal like this, even an enemy, didn’t reward him relief or pride - only a mixture of shame and disgust.

“He means, uh…” Baloo trailed off, eyes avoiding the tiger’s prone body. “He means you get to seal the deal. You finish him off.”

The man-cub’s eyes widened, and he instinctively shook his head. “No,” he whispered in horror, “I… I won the fight. He doesn’t need to be killed!” Why did this matter so much to him? Mowgli _hated_ the tiger, that much was certain, but he couldn’t shake a strange feeling from settling into him.

“Mowgli, you must follow the laws if you are to live here. You know this. Put a final end to his reign, or he will continue to bring fear to our home.” Bagheera’s teeth bared unhappily. “ _You must_ ,” he repeated, nosing Mowgli forward towards the tiger.

The man-cub stared down at the tiger, at his enemy and the biggest threat of his life so far, and couldn’t force anger into his heart. There was no room for revenge now, no - not when he’d won already. The wolves had taught Mowgli to kill only when necessary - for food or to protect. This ‘law’ went against everything he’d known the world to be, and he wasn’t able to make himself do it.

Shere Khan glared back at him through his good eye, fear present in his gaze despite his threatening grunts. The tiger’s snarl only grew wider, and he tried to roar. It was a pitiful effort, really - little more than a rumble - and only made Mowgli hesitate more. He knew that that was Shere Khan’s last effort to preserve his life.

The tiger flinched as Mowgli knelt down in front of him, no longer afraid of the beast. Mowgli’s paws explored the scarred pelt, feeling where the skin was more tough and hardened, and where the wounds were the most tender. The deepest burns were already scarring over, reminiscent of the similar marks across one of his eyes.

“Mowgli! What are you waiting for?” Bagheera hissed, growing impatient. He prowled forward, flashing a look of disgust towards the fallen tiger. “Do it quickly now, and we’ll be on our way.”

“I can’t!” Mowgli snapped, eyes narrowed. “This… this is wrong!”

“ _Wrong_ ?” The panther jeered. “Shere Khan killing Akela was _wrong_ , Mowgli. Hunting you, threatening all of our lives just because he fears what Man can do was _wrong_!”

That was right - Shere Khan was afraid of Man, wasn’t he? Akela told Mowgli once that hatred masked the most dangerous fears, and judging by the tiger’s ability to strike fear into the animals of the jungle with a single roar…

He must be truly terrified of Man.

“You’re right, Bagheera,” Mowgli murmured. “Shere Khan hurt us all. I’ll never forgive him for it. But I don’t want to _become like him_ by killing him here! I just won’t do it.”

The panther pawed at the ground, his tail twitching. “Mowgli, think about what’s to come if he survives…”

“I’ll think about that later. This… doesn’t feel good. I don’t like it.” He didn’t know how else to let his pack know that something felt wrong, but he just hoped they would understand in time. Shere Khan was meant to die from the red flower’s pit, destroying him quickly with a finality that matched his fierce reign. Dying in an agonizing, drawn-out manner seemed almost… cruel, for such a beast. Mowgli was taught many things in the wolf pack, and honor was among them; he felt that not even Akela would approve of the tiger’s slow and painful death.

But Bagheera couldn’t comprehend this, for he was not raised with the wolves. The panther’s bright eyes blinked thoughtfully, but he said nothing in response. He merely shook his head, not bothering to challenge Mowgli’s words, but not acknowledging them, either.

Shere Khan’s consciousness was fading as he wheezed breathlessly, his life quickly draining as well. Mowgli stood up suddenly, eyes scanning his surroundings. His mind raced with possible solutions, trying to find _something_ that would stop the burns from killing the tiger; everything useful from the jungle was gone, he realized - or at least, this part of the jungle.

“Baloo!” Mowgli called suddenly. “Do you think your cave was touched by the red flower?”

“Huh? No, I don’t think it was, ‘cause it’s in a different part of the jungle. Why, kid-” Baloo stammered, but Mowgli leaned forward before he could say anything more, whispering his plan and what he wanted the bear to do.

“Do you understand?” Mowgli asked, holding his breath.

“Are you _sure_ that’ll-”

“I’m sure! Just _go_!”

Baloo made a small grunt of annoyance but didn’t challenge the man-cub, turning back and lumbering away, heavy pawsteps echoing like an elephant’s stomp in the quiet.

Bagheera watched him with curiosity, gaze flicking between Shere Khan’s still form and Mowgli. The look on his face told the man-cub that he wasn’t quite pleased, but respected the man-cub enough to trust his word. Mowgli felt a rush of gratitude, and gently patted the panther’s pelt before crouching next to Shere Khan.

“Why do you wish to spare him?” Bagheera asked, settling down next to him. “You don’t fear him, as you said before, but what makes you so set on this?”

Mowgli couldn’t understand it himself, and thus couldn’t explain it to his father figure. The boy simply curled into a sitting position, gently lifting one of Shere Khan’s massive paws. A hiss escaped the tiger, and one of his eyes shot open to glare towards the source of the pain. Still, the predator knew he could not do anything to stop Mowgli, and was completely at the mercy of the very man cub he’d been hunting.

The cat really did look pathetic, his body wilting further into the ground like a dead plant. How he hadn’t died already was quite surprising, but it did truly say how strong-willed and stubborn he was, to his very _core_.

Before long, Baloo returned with exactly what Mowgli had requested: a few honeycombs. The bear spat them from the grip of his jaws at Mowgli’s paws, licking his lips. “I’ll have you know it was _very hard_ for me not to snack on the way here.”

Bagheera snuffled. “That says _wonders_ about you, Baloo.”

Despite himself, the man-cub smiled. “This is just what I needed. Thank you!” He wrapped his front legs around Baloo’s thick neck and squeezed gently, nuzzling into the bear’s fur affectionately.

“Yeah, no problem, kid,” Baloo answered, rubbing his muzzle against Mowgli in return.

Shere Khan gave a quiet whine, prompting the man-cub to remember what he was supposed to be doing. Kneeling down by the wounded tiger, Mowgli extracted some of the sweet liquid from a honeycomb, watching it goop and dangle all over his paws.

Baloo’s tongue smacking against his lips sounded from behind him, but he was quickly silenced by one hiss from Bagheera.

Mowgli cautiously spread the honey onto the tiger’s worst burns, watching the cat cringe and snarl at the slightest touch. Shere Khan’s flanks rose and fell rapidly, his eye clearly showing he was in pain, yet he didn’t utter a word. It was possible he was simply unable to speak, but perhaps he was so intent on watching Mowgli that he’d forgotten he could.

By the way the tiger reacted to the touches, as well as his somehow-still-powerful glare, Mowgli could get an idea of what his foe was feeling. There was also the new sensation still churning inside of the man-cub - one he couldn’t understand fully just yet.

“Honey is good for healing, just like you said, Baloo,” Mowgli said.

“Really? I-I mean - of course it is! Just like I _told_ ya, kid,” Baloo chuckled, plodding forward and nudging the man-cub. He hadn’t been watching where he placed his hefty paws, however, for he accidentally stepped onto Shere Khan’s tail, earning a strangled yowl in response. “Whoops! My bad, Stripes.”

Bagheera rolled his eyes. “So, after you’re finished, er… slathering honey onto Shere Khan… what do you plan to do with him?”

“Bring him back with us,” Mowgli explained, earning some snorts of disapproval. “I know you both don’t like it, but trust me on this. This just… seems right.”

“How so?” Baloo asked.

Mowgli didn’t answer right away, working diligently to spread the honey onto every spot on Shere Khan the red flower had touched. The tiger’s defensive anger finally seemed to subside once the liquid cooled down his injuries, allowing him to close his remaining eye and relax, if only a little. The moons to come would be difficult for them all, but Mowgli was almost sure it would be worth it.

“It’s what separates us,” the man-cub murmured, to both answer Baloo and tell Shere Khan. “He only believes the worst of Man, thinks we’re all killers who spread destruction and death. But we’re not all like that, and I’m going to show him that. Man can be _good_ , too.”

Shere Khan’s tail twitched, indicating that he’d heard the words, but said nothing and drifted into a more peaceful unconsciousness.

Bagheera padded towards the tiger thoughtfully. “Perhaps there _is_ more to Man than the jungle once thought,” he murmured, reviewing their enemy’s condition. “Or, at the very least, more to _you_ , Mowgli.”

With a smile, Mowgli nodded and stood up, wiping off the remnants of honey and blood. “The red flower spared Shere Khan for a reason, and I’m not going to let that go to waste,” he promised, flashing a grateful glance at his two friends. “I’ll prove it to him, you’ll see - there’s more to Man than he could ever understand.”


End file.
